


Distraction

by beezelbubbles



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, cool people are confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beezelbubbles/pseuds/beezelbubbles
Summary: Gary Green doesn't usually get kissed. And he doesn't usually get told he's had a good idea. And he definitely doesn't get kissed for having a good idea by John Constantine. And now he can't stop thinking about it. (Takes place at the end of Necromancing the Stone, but before the D&D game.)





	Distraction

It wasn't that he'd never been kissed. It wasn't that he’d never been kissed by a man, though that was a first. It was just… He'd never been kissed by someone _cool_. And certainly not because someone cool thought he had a good idea.

He was pretty sure Constantine was cool. Director Sharpe didn't think so. But she didn't like Dungeons and Dragons, either. So while she was cool, Gary didn't think he could trust her on that one. Not trusting the director’s judgement on something felt deeply wrong, but Constantine hung out with the Legends and they were definitely cool. And anyway, she was pretty upset about Constantine sleeping with Captain Lance. Constantine had kissed him. Constantine had slept with Captain Lance. Captain Lance had slept with Director Sharpe, so therefore… his brain shorted out a little.

This was fine. It was all fine. In an hour his D&D group would be at the apartment he kept in Keystone City, 2018. (5th edition was his preferred edition and this was the best time period to find a group. Plus it was contemporary to most of the Legends and their colleagues in the early days of the metahumans. Now that was really cool.) But right at that moment he was annoyingly, distressingly, a little confusingly, turned on. He looked around the apartment. Game supplies were set out, snacks were stocked in the kitchen, and they'd probably be ordering pizza anyways. (Keystone was home to the best pizza in the country, which had factored into his apartment choice.)

He slid a hand along the zipper on his jeans, he had time. It would help clear his head. Couldn't DM if he kept thinking about Constantine's hands on his face. His lips. The smell and taste of cigarettes that were really sort of gross, but he still wanted more of. Stubble brushing his chin. His cock strained against his jeans. He definitely had time. It was for the good of the game. Gary sat on the couch and undid his jeans, his hard cock easily pushing out of his boxers. He kept lotion on the side table, ostensibly because he couldn't stand dry skin. Nobody ever argued. He slid his hand up and down the shaft slowly. Precum already glistened at the head of his cock, and he swirled his thumb through it and down to his balls. A shudder passed through him. No, this wouldn't take any time at all.

He played the kiss through in his head, again and again, paying attention to something else each time. His photographic memory had been enough to secure him a job at the Time Bureau, but it had other uses. Constantine's hands on either side of his face, fingers curling slightly into his hair. Again. The slight scrape of Constantine's teeth against his bottom lip. Again. The press of Constantine's chest against his. Again. The smell of cigarettes and some sort of incense and sweat and whiskey and blood. Again. His heart racing from having solved the mystery of finding the Waverider, and then from being kissed. Again. Putting his hands on John’s waist and holding on while he held the kiss. His teeth tugging on John’s lip, while his hands slid down to his ass. Pressing against him and feeling the hard outline of his cock. No, wait. That one wasn't right. But he held onto it. It felt right. He wanted it to be right. He played that memory again, stroking faster. Again, pinching a nipple with his other hand. Again, faster, harder. Again, and he was cumming, John Constantine's name on his lips.

He'd only had to correct Constantine on his name once. That felt nice. Usually cool people didn't care enough to remember that quickly. Director Sharpe, when she was only Agent Sharpe herself, had called him only Agent for a month. A few times it seemed like she was on the verge of learning, and then went back to square one. That hurt a little. But she had learned. Other agents hadn't. Or when they had, it seemed like they thought his name was UghGary.

He tried to push it all away while he cleaned up. It was fine. He was a Time Bureau agent, and it may not seem like it to everyone else, but he was good at his job. Maybe not good in a fight, but he was clever and he found answers that others couldn't always see. And for a moment Constantine had appreciated that. Nope, game in 45 minutes. He wasn't going there again. He pulled on his cloak while he puttered around, setting things out and generally trying to keep himself busy. He knew it was a little silly to dress up for a tabletop game, but he thought it made things more fun. Like the candles he would light, or serving soda in fancy goblets and ale tankards. A lot of things are horrible in the world and sometimes you take the happy things when and where you can get them. Like in solving a puzzle and getting a kiss from a really cool Englishman.


End file.
